Logbook
by SoulLikeABird
Summary: Modern AU. Korra finds Detective Mako's logbook. Ongoing
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Korra doesn't belong to me yada yada yada...However the plot of this story is mine and you may not use it without my written permission.**

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><p>Korra never felt quite satisfied with the coffee sold on the university campus. The cream they used was too thick, too sweet and the barista never added enough sugar when she specifically asked for five tablespoons. It exclusively wasn't Korra's fault she was so finicky when it came to coffee. The caffeinated drink acted as a life boat to get her through those tedious morning classes. It was a must. The last time she went without her double shot mocha espresso, she may, or may not have threw a textbook at one of her classmates during a heated debate.<p>

Korra humorously explained to both the Dean of the university and her parents that there was a chemical imbalance in her brain that could only be fixed by a cup of coffee. To say the least, they all saw through her lie and Korra was suspended and restricted to her dorm for three days. It was miserable, having all that alone time to herself. It felt like one of the longest three days of her life.

Of course, some days have been longer, more miserable.

The sidewalk Korra slowly strolled down was mostly empty―the occasional morning rush brushing past her. She kept her hands deep in the pockets of her blue jacket, her eyes on her brown boots that crunched over the thin layer of snow. Her knit beanie was pulled over her short brown hair dusted in flurries of snowfall; the fabric kept her ears warm. She blew silvery, frosty air through her chapped lips that made her craving for her cup of coffee all that more appetizing.

When Korra spotted the small café, she rushed in and was relieved to see no line. In no time, she had her double shot mocha espresso and was on her way back to the university to attend her first class of the morning. She stepped back into the cold air, but paused by the glass door to dig around in her leather satchel. She retrieved an orange bottle of pills, unscrewed the cap, popped two tablets in her mouth and chased it down her throat with a burning gulp from her Styrofoam cup.

The pills, despite the bite of mocha flavor, still tasted bitter on her tongue and she refrained from spitting. Instead, she took another searing chug of coffee and nourished the burning on her tongue. It was the only part of her body that didn't feel cold.

She stole a glance at her watch. Fifteen minutes till class. She walked fast across the snow slicked pavement, every once in a while stealing a quick look over her shoulder.

_Only a precaution_. She told herself.

Korra tapped one of her hard soled boots against the sidewalk impatiently as she waited for the traffic signal to allow her to safely cross the street. She checked her watch once more and sighed, knowing that if she waited any longer for the traffic light, she would be late to class. She was already in the hotspot for her attitude. One more slip up, and she would lose her scholarship, and be shipped back to the south pole. She contemplated crossing the street but decided against it as a Sato mobile and a semi truck sped past, nearly crushing her toes under the tires.

Another sip of coffee. To ease the stress.

The slap of footsteps pounded from behind Korra and as she turned with her heart lodged in her throat, a man was barreling toward her, dressed in all black from head to toe―wearing an expression of panic and hatred. Korra stepped out of the man's way just before he could slam into her, but his shoulder still roughly clipped her own and she stumbled back, nearly losing grip on her cup, but righted herself before she had the chance to fall butt first into oncoming traffic.

She turned to the sprinting man and angrily called after him. "Hey! Watch where you're going ass-" Korra's protest was painfully cut short as she was hit in her side by a force powerful enough to knock her to her back. The tightly packed snow absorbed most of impact as both her head and back crashed solidly to the ground. Her hand released her espresso that unfortunately, splattered all over the sidewalk, staining the snow brown.

Gasping, Korra registered it was hard to breathe, but she quickly figured out that the heavy weight pressing to her belly and chest was the same weight that nailed her so easily to the cold snow. Korra's squinted eyes flew open and saw his chattering pink lips before she saw his wide, faultless amber eyes that screamed of fault. His skin was several shades paler than her naturally russet skin, and his jaw line was sharp, long and defined. However, his cheeks were red like a spring's harvest of fresh cherries. The man's breath was heavy and smelt sweetly of candy canes and faintly of tobacco. His large gloved hands were flat on the other side of her head, holding him up―preventing his body from crushing Korra's any further.

Korra shamelessly concluded that the man was handsome.

Before she noticed she was staring, she noticed that the man was still on top of her. Inhaling a cold breath Korra fitted her hands between the small space separating them and shoved him curtly off of her and reeled back. The man gaped at her, still breathing heavily in sync with her own labored breathing. Korra brushed strands of hair from her face and righted the beanie on her head.

"I'm sorry!" He sputtered before staggering to his feet and sprinting past her.

Korra looked over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, you better be sorry!" She shouted, her hands fisting the snow. "You owe me a coffee!" But the man was already gone, sprinting in a quick pursuit of the other running man. She grunted loudly and slammed her fist down on the snow packed earth, now staring mournfully at her spilt coffee puddle a few feet away from her.

It felt like a pitiful thing to do, crying over her spilt coffee, so she made her farewell brisk before struggling to her feet. She brushed the powder from her jeans, coat, and the places she could reach on her back. She readjusted the strap of her satchel on her shoulder and began to walk away, but something small, rectangular and brown caught the corner of her eye.

She bent down, ignoring the faint ache in her back, and retrieved a small leather bound book. Korra turned toward the direction the man ran and watched as he skidded around a corner. She puckered her lips, debating whether it would be the right thing to go after him to return his book. But she was already on a tight schedule, and with her coffee now a sodden blend of mocha and melted snow, she wasn't feeling so generous.

Tucking the book in her bag, she slicked her damp hair behind her ears and ran across the crosswalk in a speedy pursuit back to the university.

Dr. Katara, Korra's therapist, first prescribed Prozac for the depression. At first, Korra's mother monitored her dosage making sure the medication was taken timely and responsibly. Korra hid the pills under her tongue as she swallowed the water, her mother's eyes intent on her. She would harshly swallow the beverage, pretending it was a struggle to down the tablet. When her mother wasn't looking, she would slip the pill from her mouth to her hand where she would stuff it into her pocket to discard later.

The depression got worse.

Dr. Katara prescribed Paroxetine for the anxiety. The Sertraline was for the hallucinations. Voltaren was for the pain.

_It should help._ Her father had told her back at the south pole. _You'll be back on your feet in no time, Kiddo._

Korra sat on her bed, back in her dorm room with a small flickering flashlight as her only light source as a courtesy to her roommate whom was fast asleep. A long red pillbox sat in her lap and she popped the third cap, scooped two pills into her hands, shoved them into her mouth and washed them down with a swig of cold water.

She looked around the small room, and her eyes found her book bag she had left on her desk. Striking amber eyes flashed in her memory. Korra's eyes never left the bag as she scooted off her bed and padded across the room to her desk. She slid the chair out as quietly as she could and sat down.

After shuffling through notebooks and loose paper, Korra found the leather book. She turned it over in her hands several times, hesitant to open it. She had her morals to thank for that. She turned in the chair and looked to the bed where her roommate was still fast asleep then turned back. She drew in a breath, and leisurely opened the book to the fist page.

The first page contained nothing but a name, and instantly Korra believed she was about to read the man's diary.

_Mako… Maybe I shouldn't read this..._

Korra turned the page and tried her best to decipher the sloppy scrawl of pen marks made on the lined page.

**_3:34pm: Suspect Left premises alone_**

**_5:16pm: Suspect returned to apartment with a young women (25 yrs?)._**

**_7:15pm: Suspect peers out window before drawing the curtains shut._**

**_7:35pm: Leaves apartment with woman_**

**_9:23pm: Suspect and unidentified female enter Kwongs Cuisine_**

**_10:13pm : Leaves establishment without unidentified female._**

Korra's eyes widen as realization dawns over her. It wasn't the man's diary. It was some sort of logbook and from her own experience with her law enforcement major and countless nights of binge watching NCIS, Korra knew Mako wasn't some sap who carried his diary around with him. He was a _detective_.

Korra almost tore the paper in her haste to turn to the page. She read, and read, thumbing through the pages―looking at profiles and small paper photographs of mug shots held to the page with paperclips. She read the times, and descriptions hungrily and with an untamed excitement. She read of a kleptomaniac teenage boy, an old woman who liked to steal and harbor cats, a bank robber, and finally a murder.

She would never admit it out loud, but this was a lot more satisfying than readying some stranger's journal.

On the thirty second page, a black and white paper clipped photo put Korra's fun to an end. Her eyes widened painfully, her fingers going rigid around the book. A familiar buried terror gripped her tight in the chest, making breathing a difficult task. Blurry black eyes stared at her from the book, the same eyes that she had memorized and locked away in a vault in the back of her mind. Now the vault had burst open, spilling out quick flashes of horrific memories, and voices she shoved pills down her throat to silence.

_You're weak._

"I'm not weak." She rasped silently, her fingertips, pressing hard into the pages of the book, created bends and creases in the paper .

_It's over! No one is going to save you. It's too late._

"It's not over. It's not over. It's not over." She chanted in a hoarse whisper, much like a broken record. A lone tear streaked down her cheek.

Korra squinted her eyes shut and slammed the book down on the desk before shoving it away from her. Drawing her legs up, she buried her face into her knees and bit down on the inside of her cheek―she willed the voices and memories back into the vault. She shut off her mind like she had practiced many times before and everything fell silent, save for the unsteady drumming of her heart.

Korra dropped her legs from the chair and checked to see if her roommate had slept through her meltdown. She did. She didn't even stir.

It took several attempts to look at the book again, and when she mustered up the courage, she flipped to the following page, refusing to look into his black eyes.

Tears blurred her vision and she whisked them away before reading Mako's messily written profile. Korra's blood runs ice cold and slow through her veins.

**_The Red Lotus Killers: Consists of four individuals suspected of multiple homicides and disappearances in the span of three years-_**

Her nerves prevented her from reading further and she flipped the page and read the intricately

detailed logs Mako had wrote, memorizing the text.

Korra didn't sleep that night. After she gained all the knowledge she could from the detective's book, she closed it, shoved it into her satchel and stumbled back into bed. Short brown hair splayed like a perfectly round chocolate halo beneath her as she stared at the ceiling. She didn't dare close her eyes, abundantly aware of what nightmares awaited for her in the vulnerability of unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>Feedback is appreciated! :D<strong>

**~Megan~**


	2. Chapter 2

**I won't bore you with an authors note but I hope you enjoyyy!**

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><p>Maybe Korra had hatched better plans―plans that didn't involve punching a detective in the jaw. Originally, it had meant to only be a love tap, but when Korra remembered how he plowed her to the ground and ruined her coffee, her fist clipped his jaw line firmly―resentment packing power into the strike that sent Detective Mako to the ground with a loud cry.<p>

Her nostrils flared as she stood over him, her knuckles still red, still clutched in a tight ball of aching fingers. She watched as Detective Mako held the side of his face in his gloved hand, his mouth agape and his cheeks furiously red.

However, remorse was lost to Korra.

But as she expected, even her unprecedented attack wouldn't keep the detective down long. In the next moment, Korra once again found herself whacked to the ground by a recognizable warm weight―only this time the detective's dreamy eyes weren't visible as he smashed her face down into the snow cushioned sidewalk. She grunted when her arms were wrenched and pinned behind her back, the detective's knee driving painfully into her spine. She lifted her face out of the numbing snow and spat dirty melted slush from her mouth, squeaking as she felt the cold wet snow seep into the fabric of her jeans and thin coat.

For the slightest second, Korra wished she didn't skip her afternoon therapy session.

His breath, hot and heavy, inches from her ear, was the only thing keeping her from contracting hypothermia. "Under the authority of the Republic City Police Department, I am placing you under arrest for assaulting a police officer." Detective Mako hissed, and Korra heard the rattle of chains and jerked violently as the detective cranked the cuffs painfully tight around her wrists.

Korra bit down on her lip to curb the string of expletives she burned to say. The last she needed was to piss the detective off further. She had already punched him. Cursing at him would not be in her best interest. "Are you trying to amputate my hands, Mister?" She could feel metal pinching her skin, digging into her bones. "These are too tight." The detective briskly ignored her protest, and in retaliation, Korra bucked her hips up off the ground and kicked her legs with loud grunts, but Detective Mako's weight was to his advantage and he grabbed the back of Korra's coat in his fist and wrenched her up and out of the snow. As Korra found her feet, she felt her satchel yanked over her head. She didn't protest.

As Mako spat out his rehearsed spiel about her being entitled to a attorney, Korra went over her own lines in her head, carefully constructing what she was going to say in hopes of his understanding. Korra could feel the logbook in her back pocket, but she could also feel the detective's taut grip on both her arms as he shoved her in the back of a sleek black Sato mobile. The door slammed in loudly as he hurled it shut. The detective slid into his seat in the vehicle and shut the door behind him before turning to look at Korra through the cage that separated him from her. He opened his mouth to yell at Korra, but his words hung on his tongue as recognition passed over his features.

"It's you." He said with astonish.

"It's me."

Mako rubbed his jaw. "What, my apology yesterday wasn't enough, so you had to punch me?" Korra shrugged. "Spirits, I said I was sorry!" Korra did her best not to cringe under the resentment saturating his voice. "You do realize how much trouble you're in right? It's a _huge _crime to punch an authority of the law in the face." He explained, exasperated, and Korra said nothing. "You're going to jail." He said matter of factly.

Korra nodded, watching his nostrils flare. The detective turned away from Korra and started the vehicle, and that was when Korra lost her nerve.

"I found your logbook." She said evenly, looking through the metal cage to Mako.

He spun around so fast, it almost made Korra dizzy. "Pardon?"

Korra swallowed, though her throat was dry and aching. "Your logbook, I have it."

"What are _you_ doing with my logbook?" He demanded and Korra answered tonelessly.

"I found it."

"You mean you _stole _it," His tone annoyed Korra and she rolled her eyes passively.

The bored expression splaying on her face gave no hints to her raging emotions. "However you want to look at it buddy. The fact is, I have it."

"You say that as if you want something from me."The detective instigated raising an eyebrow.

"You tell me." Korra scooted forward in the seat until her nose was just brushing the gate between her and Mako. "You think I risked having a criminal record just so I can return your stupid book?" She challenged.

He looked unfazed, his lips straight and his golden eyes impassable. "What do you want then?" His breath was hot on her face.

Korra swallowed and sat back, her fingers fidgeting behind her back. "I want to help you on a case. I kn-"

"What case?" He interrupted.

. "The Red Lotus Killers." She said quietly―the name sour on her tongue.

"The serial killers?" Mako shook his head with a confused glare. "What makes you think you can help me?" Korra opened her mouth to respond. "Better yet, why did you read my logbook? No, why did you punch me?!" He demanded loudly.

"Would you have listened to me if I wasn't sitting here?" Korra insisted irritably, shaking her cuffed hands.

"I may have!"

"I seriously doubt it."

"I would have. You don't know me!"

"And you don't know me!" She yelled and then the cab went quiet save for their labored breaths. Korra's eyes were bloodshot and wild as her glare gouged into Mako. Again she sat at the edge of the seat, the gate and the cuffs around her wrist preventing her from punching him again.

"What do you possibly need to tell me about The Red Lotus that would possess you strike a police officer?"

The air in the cap was thick, and Korra had trouble catching her breath. "Three years ago, when I was eighteen, I was kidnapped by The Red Lotus." Her voice was thick with trepidation. "They poisoned me, chained me up," She shook her wrists that were still cuffed uncomfortably behind her back, the metal rattling. "and they tortured me. For five _agonizing_ weeks I was their prisoner. But I escaped, and I know others have not been as fortunate." Korra explained calmly, despite the sickly dread washing over her. Mako's emotions threatened to break through his wall of resolve. She could spot the trouble woven in his eyes.

The poison still ran heavy in her veins, still kept her awake at night like a silent but piercing scream only she could hear. Only two years ago did she fold up her wheelchair after she taught herself to walk again. Therapy and medication, nightmares and a sense of security stripped away, leaving her naked with unwavering fear.

Mako, speechless and hanging by a thread of sympathy, says nothing. But the tears pooling in the girl's eyes was hard to not acknowledge.

"I believe finding your logbook was fate." Her eyes burned as she blinked away the moisture. " I can help you, if you let me." She said quietly, fearing the words as they rolled uneasily from her tongue.

"What could you possibly know about Zaheer and his-"

_"_I know enough." She hissed.

He looked to her with a scrutinizing expression. "What do you know that could possibly be useful in my investigation," He gestures at her, silently asking for her name.

"Korra."

He raised an oddly shaped brow. "Right, Korra. Look kid, I don't understand on what justifies your assault on me, but then having the nerve to ask me for something?" He shook his head. "Why should I believe you? How do I know that you're not just some bored kid looking for a little entertainment?"

_Unbelievable_. She scoffed, her lips tugging into an exasperated smirk. "Trust me, if I were looking for entertainment, I have other viable situations in mind that don't involve handcuffs and an asshole detective."

The detective furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to speak, but Korra beat him to the punch, again.

"You took my bag." Her eyes moved to her leather book bag laying in the passager seat. "Third pocket―there should be a, uh, a plastic red pill box." He adverted his eyes to the bag, but made no move to grab it."Go on." Korra encouraged with a roll of her eyes. Mako slowly reached for the bag and unzipped the third pocket before reaching into the cotton lined purse and retrieving a long, slim plastic red box that rattled as he moved it. There were seven lids, each adorned with a letter scrawled messily in black marker.

"Open it." Korra instructed, and Mako obliged. As he opened three lids, five pills―each a different shape and color― resided in each slot.

"So, what is this?" Mako questioned, moving the pills around in the slot with his finger. "Are you a pill popper or something?"

Korra didn't even try to stop the laugh she harshly barked. "Are pill poppers usually this organized?" Mako shot her unamaused look that wiped the smile from her face.

"What is all this medication for?" His eyes were judgmental as he evaluated the pills.

"When you're kidnapped from your home, chained to a wall, and tortured, you get a little fucked up." She had to force the words from her mouth. It was hard to hear it out loud―it was hard to hear herself say it.

Korra could see the change in the detective's emotions, and she knew that he no longer believed she was lying. "Believe me, I wish I was making this all up." Korra said sadly and the detective held up a small blue pill.

"Is this," He looked horrified.

"Valium." Korra answered quickly. "It's for night terrors."

Mako placed the pill back in its slot and closed the case. "I'm uh," Mako trailed off, clearing his throat. His eyes were on his lap. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Everyone is." Said Korra with a huff. There was nothing Korra hated more than needless apologies. "Your apologies don't undo what I've been through."

"Look Korra, I know I can't 'undo' the pain you've experienced, but you can't either. Going after Zaheer isn't going to fix you." Korra gound her teeth as Mako shoved her pill box back into her bag. "I can't let you help me. It's not worth me losing my job, and it isn't worth you putting your life in danger."

Korra shot Mako a dangerous glare as he exited the car, walked around to Korra's door and yanked it open. She turned away from Mako, disappointment and resentment filling her. She looked forward and she heard the jingle of keys and a warm heat radiating off Mako's hands as he freed her from the restraints. She brought her hands out from behind her back with the leather book in hand. Her shoulder's ached dully.

The detective stepped back from the car to allow Korra to slide out of the cramped Sato mobile.

Tears pricked her eyes as cold wind wisped through her short hair. She hesitated when Mako reached out to her for his book. She debated running away with it, but she knew it wouldn't accomplish anything. The book was as good as useless to her. Korra inched the logbook towards the detective's awaiting fingers, and when he took it, she realized just how _stupid_ her intentions were.

She couldn't have possibly expected some detective to listen to her―especially after punching said detective in the face. To Mako, Korra was nothing more than a college student baring some scars. He would be useless to her, and Korra useless to him.

"Here, I want you to have this." Said Mako reaching his hand out, a small business card caught between his fingers. Korra looked at it questionably."It will give me some piece of mind to know you can contact me."

"Why?" Korra asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Just in case you can remember some information that can help me on this case, or whatever." Mako explained inching the card toward her. "It doesn't matter. I just want you to have it."

Korra narrowed her eyes. "A few seconds ago you were telling me that I can't help you."

"That wasn't what I said!" Mako exclaimed pinching the bridge of his nose. "I said that I can't let you help me, as in I _can't _allow your physical involvement."

Korra raised an eyebrow. "You're confusing."

"Just take the card, please." He sounded properly annoyed.

"As you wish." She perked, her voice dripping in sarcasm. She plucked the card from his fingers and discarded it in her back pocket. She smirked up at Mako, her blue eyes unamused.

Mako, visibly uncomfortable, took a step back. "Do you uh," Mako rubbed his jawline, Korra noticing the fresh bruise on his jaw. "need a ride home?" Mako asked while handing her back her satchel.

Snatching the satchel from Mako by the strap, she slid it onto her shoulder, muttered "No." then walked past the detective. She just wanted to walk back to her dorm while her last shred of dignity was still intact.

"Korra," Her name rolled off easily in a loud shout. She stopped walking, but she didn't turn to him. "I'll find Zaheer." He said, and Korra turned to him, her lips, chapped and numbed, parted. "I promise you that you will see him behind bars."

Korra rolled her eyes as she turned back around away from Mako. "I'm sure I will." She walked quickly, his empty promise holding her to her sanity like a thin but breaking tether.

To compensate for her fallen cappuccino, thanks to that _no good_ detective, Korra made a pit stop at the café. The wait and pay was minimum, and when she had the warm printed paper cup in her hands, she sat at a table by a frosted window. She managed to down her afternoon dose of medication in one gulp of coffee. The caffeine kicked in immediately. Before she left the café, her fingers were shaking, and her attention was scattered.

The walk back to her dorm was cold, but the coffee kept her fingers defrosted enough to function. Her roommate was gone when she returned. She shed her outerwear, hung her jacket on the appropriate hook beside her bed, and polished off the remains of her coffee.

She thought of Mako as she undid her boot laces. She yanked the knots apart with her fingernails then proceeded to kick the boots from her feet. They clattered somewhere about the small room.

From her pocket, she felt the faint vibration of her phone. She sat at her desk and withdrew the device from her coat pocket and read the caller I.D.

_Dad._

Korra frowned. had probably already called him to inform Korra's absence from her session earlier that day. And now Korra knew the only reason why he would call would be to yell at her. There were conditions set in stone that Tonraq and Senna reasoned with Korra to allow her to attend university. The first condition was Korra had to keep her grades up to par. The second was to stay out of trouble (she had broken that condition many of times) , and the third condition was to attend therapy. If she wasn't to comply with the set expectations, Tonraq had made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to stop signing the tuition checks, and Korra would be forced to either drop out, or somehow pay the tuition herself.

She let the call go to voicemail, not feeling up to sitting through a phone call of her father expressing his disappointment, and restating the rules. Conversations like that Korra considered redundant and avoidable.

Several moments later, her phone vibrated, signaling a text message was received. When she saw it was from Tonraq, she was hesitant to open it.

**_Is there any specific reason as to why you aren't answering your phone? called . She told me you were a no-show to your appointment today. Call me asap!_**

Korra huffed, strands of hair blown from her eyes. She typed her reply quickly.

**_Sorry I skipped. I wasn't feeling good. I can't talk now. Lots of studying to do. I'll call tomorrow._**

She hated lying to her dad, but it was worth it if it meant avoiding him finding out what shenanigans went on that day. Tonraq didn't reply to the text, and after a deep breath, Korra let her head fall to her desk.

Her thoughts were a strewn chaos. Her life was chaos.

After escaping within an inch of her life, Korra had tried to put as much distance as she could between her and Republic City. She had dropped out of the small community college she attended and went back home to the south pole, swearing to never return. But home quickly became claustrophobic. With her parents constantly doting on her, questions that demanded answers being shoved relentlessly down her throat, it was a less difficult decision to move herself back to the city than it was to keep herself in her small village.

And now, Korra was pegging after the very criminals that devastated her, confined her to a

wheelchair, subjected her to a life of medication and the constant need to look over her shoulder. But

she _wanted _to find The Red Lotus. She _wanted_ to help the detective. Maybe it would give her some peace of mind.

Korra lifted her head from her desk and withdrew a thick calculus text book from the shelf suspended on the wall and slammed it down in front of her. Studying would do her some good―distract her long enough to raise the odds of her getting a passing score on the midterm approaching that upcoming week.

However, the distraction proved to be a failure, and Korra still found herself immersed in her frenzied thoughts. Her pencil tapped against the edge of her textbook, her leg bouncing under the desk. She gently gnawed on her bottom lip, looking straight forward at the wall. She stayed in this position for what seemed like hours before giving up and retiring to her bed. She fell back on her bed, her arms spread as the soft mattress absorbed the impact. She released the breath she didn't realize she was holding in. She rolled over with closed eyes and nuzzled into her feather pillow. Korra flinched when something wet dripped onto her temple. Her eyes flew open as she rolled back over on her back, her throat thick with building fear.

Then Korra wasn't breathing at all, and all she could see was red. A red lotus flower―freshly painted above her bed on the ceiling. She recognized the insignia. How could she not? It was carved into her back ―her most prominent but hidden scar.

Choking out something caught between a scream and a whimper, Korra scrambled back off the bed and crashed to the floor, her eyes still caught on the dripping flower above her bed.

"No." She whispered, gasping for breath. Tears streaked her face. Raising her shaking fingers, she brushed them across her temple that came away wet with something red. _Blood?_ She guessed, horrified. No. The substance was too bright, and too thick.

Paint. She wiped the substance off with haste on her jeans

When the front door knob began to rattle, Korra leapt up from the floor and lunged for her bedside table drawer. Shoving aside books, empty chip bags, and some pill bottles, Korra found her small pocket blade. Her knees wobbled, threatening to capsize under her weight. Korra fell against the nearest wall and held the blade up in front of her, her hands violently shaking, but she held fast to the knife.

The door opened and Korra's knuckles went white around the hilt of the blade, but when her roommate, Jinora, stepped out from the other side of the door, Korra's hand went slack around her weapon.

Jinora saw the knife before she saw Korra's wet face. "Korra?" She asked, purposely leaving the door open. "Are you alright?" She asked the question slowly and with caution. "What happened?"

"Did you," She choked off, dropping her weapon baring hand to her side. "Did you do that?" She asked hysterically, pointing up at the red symbol.

Jinora followed Korra's finger to the ceiling, and Jinora recognized the insignia almost instantly. Her and Korra were not roommates by chance. Jinora was the daughter of a council man, Tenzin who was a colleague of Tonraq. Both Jinora and Korra had known each other since they were very young, and Jinora was the first face Korra saw when she awoke in that hospital room three years ago.

"Is that The Red Lotus Symbol?" Asked Jinora flabbergasted. "Korra, I would never…" She answered softly. She tore her eyes away from the symbol and looked to her friend whom was still holding the knife up, as if to protect herself. From what, Jinora didn't know. "You can put down the knife, Korra." She beckoned, approaching Korra much like someone approaching a timid Polar Bear Dog.

Tenzin had informed Jinora of Korra's "sickness" and advised she do some research just in case something was to happen―just in case something was to trigger Korra―something similar to this situation.

Korra stood upright and dropped the knife back in the drawer. She looked at the pocket knife for a moment before her knees buckled beneath her. Jinora caught Korra, despite their drastic weight and height differences, and lowered her down slowly. Jinora hugged her best friend to her chest. Korra wrapped her arms around Jinora's back, and rested her cheek on her shoulder.

"What happened?" Jinora breathed. She could feel Korra's erratic heartbeat against her chest.

"I hope this is someone's idea of a sick joke." Korra said, trying to regulate her breathing.

Jinora hoped so too. "You think this was just a prank?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"I don't know." Korra admitted feebly.

"It's weird that someone would go through the effort of breaking into our dorm and painting the symbol of The Red Lotus on our ceiling. And for what? To elicit fear from you?" Jinora pulled back from their embrace and grabbed Korra by the shoulders. "Do you know of anybody who would want to do that."

Korra shook her head. She had little to no enemies, or friends, for that matter. Then something caught her eye. A small slip of paper protruded from under her pillow. Korra pulled away from Jinora's grip and crawled over to the bed and reached for it tentatively.

"What is that?" Questioned Jinora while crawling over to Korra.

Korra unfolded the parchment, read the black print. Her crystalline blue eyes widened and she

threw the paper away from her as if it had caught fire.

Jinora retrieved the paper from where it landed and read it, dreading the contents.

**_When you base your expectations only on what you see, you blind yourself to the possibility of a new reality._**

**_-Guru Lahigma_**

Looking to Korra, Jinora held up the slip of paper. "I don't understand. Who is this Guru Lahigma?"

Korra swallowed, her throat aching. "Guru Lahigma. Zaheer's obsession. He used to read me his quotes like they were fucking bedtime stories."

"I still don't understand what this means."

"It means Zaheer has found me." A cold chill ran through Korra, making her sick to her stomach.

Widening her grey eyes, Jinora felt very afraid for Korra. "Are you sure?" Korra nodded her head in response. "We have to tell someone." Jinora rasped rising from her knees, but Korra caught her wrist before she could go any further.

"No," She said firmly, rising to her feet. "You can't tell anybody." Her voice was cold and hard like ice. Jinora glared at Korra with a look of disapproval.

"What do you mean? We have to tell someone!" Jinora argued, shocked that Korra would decline alerting the authorities that a _killer_ had broken into their dorm at some point. "This is serious, Korra! You could be in some serious danger right now."

"I know that, okay?!" Korra snapped, her eyes blazing with an unreadable emotion. Jinora could closely relate it to terror. "But if we tell the police, they are going to call my parents and I'll be out on the first fight back to the South Pole." She would certainly pitch herself off the nearest ice glacier if she was sent back home. Her parents would never allow her out of their site again, despite her being an adult.

"Then what are _you _going to do, Korra?" Dropping her eyes to her shoes, Jinora fought back tears. "I'm very worried for you."

Korra thought about it for a moment. She weighed her varying options silently until a plan constructed itself. "I have someone I can call who will help me."

"Help you as in what?"

"That's not important, but there's something you need to do, Jin." Jinora cocked a thin brown eyebrow. "Go down to the registrar and ask for a new roommate."

Jinora narrowed her eyes. "Why would I do that?"

Korra sighed, a dull throb heavy in her temples. "I would rather go through _everything_ Zaheer and his buddies did to me _again_ then to have something happen to you because of me." Korra gently placed a hand on Jinora's thin shoulder. "You're the closest thing I have to a best friend, and that's dangerous for you. So please, just go ask for a new roommate. Tell them we don't get along, or that I smell bad or whatever. Just get yourself away from me."

"And what about you?" She protested, still fighting like hell to keep herself from crying. "I can't just leave you here by yourself! What if they come back?" She demanded, on the brink of hysteria. She would never be able to live with herself if something were to happen to Korra and Jinora was unable to stop it. She made a promise to both her own parents and Korra's that she would do her damnest to look after Korra, and if she complied to Korra's wish, she would be breaking that promise.

"Then I'd thank the spirits that you're not here." Was Korra's reply, and Jinora let the tears spill from her eyes.

"Please _don't_ ask me to do this." She begged in one last ditch effort, but Korra didn't budge. Jinora watched helplessly as her friend took a step back away from her. Her hand falling from her shoulder. Korra tilted her head back to look at the red painted flower drying on the ceiling. She sniffled and sighed, then looked back down at Jinora.

"I'm going to go find something to clean that with. I'll be right back." And Korra left the room, her heart still beating erratically, and her eyes still wet from crying. She found herself in the bathroom and she locked herself inside a stall. There, she fished out the small paper card from her back pocket and looked at the simple printed lettering.

_"__Here, I want you to have this. It will give me some piece of mind to know you can contact me."_ The detective had said. Korra found herself silently thanking him for providing her with his contact information, though she would never admit it out loud.

Her fingers shook as she dialed his number. When she held the phone to her ear and waited for the dial tone, the emptiness pitting inside of her began to fill with an invisible comfort. He answered on the third ring.

"Detective Mako speaking." He chimed easily, as if rehearsed. She wouldn't be surprised if it was rehearsed. In fact, the thought made her want to laugh, but she refrained.

She inhaled slowly, thinking carefully of what she wanted to say. "Detective, It's Korra." She sagged against the stall door, closing her eyes. "Have you ever heard of Guru Lahigma?"

* * *

><p><strong>As always, feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for reading. The next installment should be out soon.<strong>

**~Megan~**


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